I'm not a hero
by javu
Summary: All this nonsense about me being a hero is crap. Just because I've been through hell and back doesn't make me a hero. I'm not a hero; I'm a survivor.
1. 1 Of Bolts, Toilet Bowls, and Bombings

Choices are a funny thing.

Some choices are really important. Like choosing which N.E.W.T. classes to take. That's important - it can determine your entire career. Other choices are rather insignificant, such as which marmalade you're going to spread on your toast. You're hardly going to make a pros and cons list for cherry versus orange spread, right?

Now, there are some other choices that maybe seemed huge when you made them, but actually turned out to be insignificant. Like, how to do your hair on the first day of school. I remember wanting to make a good impression on the professors. Turned out, teachers care more about performance than appearance, and thank goodness for that for little eleven-year-old me.

And then there's that tricky kind of choice, the one that seemed like nothing at the time, but wasn't. You didn't even think about it or even realize the consequences, or that it even had consequences. It was just like deciding between cherry or orange marmalade. And yet it was that choice, that decision, that changed your entire life.

As I sit in my room pondering how I got to be who am I today, I can't help but think that that's exactly what happened to me. I used to think, 'how did I become to be this kind of person?' or 'how did I get here?' And sure, there are definite things that happened to me that propelled me, but I think where it really began for me was Easter break of last year.

The little choice I made that seemed like nothing was staying at Hogwarts over Easter break in my sixth year. I just wanted to study. I had no idea of what the results of _not_ going home would be. See, if I had gone home, I would have received my cousin's wedding invitation in person _. I_ would have sent in my RSVP, not my mother. So my mother wouldn't have had the opportunity to check the box for my plus-one without my knowledge. Then the whole wedding wouldn't have been a not-so blind date for me and my plus-one. I probably wouldn't have stormed out of the reception in a huff. And if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have crossed paths with … well, you know the rest.

What you don't know, however, is my story from my perspective. I leave for London in a few days and I want to write it all down, about what really happened. Then one day when I'm dead and buried (I dearly hope that day is far, but chances are it might be soon), someone will find this and know the truth. Then the facts can be set straight.

All this nonsense about me being a hero is crap. Just because I've been through hell and back doesn't make me a hero. I'm not a hero; I'm a survivor.

Charlotte A. Ward

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* * *

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It was awkward sitting at the dinner table alone. Obviously I wasn't sitting _alone_ alone; I was in between a group of fourth years and some shrilly second years. I actually didn't mind sitting alone, but even I couldn't deny the awkward feeling that eventually crept up into me after a while. Especially when everyone else had someone to sit with and talk to.

Normally I would have sat with Kitty, but she was a little bit busy at the Ravenclaw table catching up with Brian Webber, her boyfriend. Was I a little bit peeved that she chose to sit with him and not me after not seeing each other for a week? Maybe a little. They had only been dating for two months, whereas I'd been friends with Kitty since second year.

I set my silverware down, trying not to be ticked. Kitty had always been like this with boys, living love to the fullest. While I didn't condone her behavior, it wasn't unexpected. Leaving my food half-eaten, I stood up and hoisted my book bag over my shoulder in one fluid motion. I could catch up with Kitty later in the dorm.

Just as I passed the threshold to the Great Hall, I heard someone call out my name. I turned and saw my brother walking over to me with a small, wooden chest in his hands.

"Charlotte, hold on a sec," he said, shuffling up to me.

"Have a good holiday, Cole?" I asked, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, it was a bit somber without you," he said seriously.

"Excuse me," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "Between the two of us, you're clearly the trouble maker of our family!"

Cole tried to look innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, let's see." I hold out my fingers, counting them as I speak. "Firecrackers last Christmas - while everyone was sleeping! And the Christmas before that you put goldfish in all the toilet bowls at Grandma's house."

"Oho, I forgot about the goldfish! That was a classic!"

"It wasn't funny when Uncle Randall got food poisoning and his diahrea wouldn't flush because of your stupid goldfish!"

"Nope, definitely was hilarious."

I sighed and shook my head in mock disappointment while Cole just laughed. I wasn't really disappointed in him. The goldfish idea had actually been quite funny, albeit gross.

"But seriously," continued Cole. "Mom and Dad missed you."

I gave him a half-hearted smile. "Well, I wanted to do some serious studying."

"Yeah, well." He looked briefly at his shoes before looking up at me again. Something about the tone of his voice made me feel guilty about staying at Hogwarts this Easter break. "Anyway. I've been carrying this," he gestured to the chest in his hands, "for ages. Mom wanted me to give it to you."

"What's in it?" I asked, eyeing the chest curiously.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Are you going to take it?" I reached over and grabbed it from him. "See ya!" And with that, he turned and returned to the Gryffindor table to sit with his fellow third years.

"Thanks," I muttered after him.

I took a closer look at the chest. It was quite lovely, on par with my mother's usual standards. It was probably made out of cherry wood, and a dark one at that. The clasp and lock, as well as the bolts, were gold, or at least painted gold. I also noticed that there was no key. Cole probably forgot. I quick took out my wand and muttered, _alohomora_. There was a satisfying _click_ , unlocking the chest. I relocked the chest. I would open it in my dorm.

A chorus of bubbling laughter made me look up. A group of seventh-years were exiting the Great Hall. I stepped to the side to let them pass. As they walked by, though, one of them called to me.

"Hey there, Charlotte!" greeted the tallest of the girls.

"Dominique," I said with a smile that wasn't forced. "Long time no see."

"I haven't seen you in ages! Where've you been?" Dominique had stopped where I was, but her friends had continued on a few more steps.

"Oh, you know…" Real smooth.

Thankfully, Dominique just kept on smiling. "I told you - call me Dom."

"Sure thing, Dominique," I answered. Last year, I had a little mishap with a pair of drunks outside of Three Broomsticks. Dominique kindly helped me out. Since then, I wouldn't say that we were exactly friends. But she did say hello in the corridors, sometimes. Which I supposed was nice.

"Dom, let's go!" One of her friends called out.

Dom flashed me a brilliant smile. I didn't know a person to have such white and straight teeth. "I guess I'll see you later, Char!" And with that, she spun on her heels and joined her friends.

Once her back was turned, one of her friends gave me a gross look. They probably didn't know who I was or why Dominique bother to stop and say hi. Heck, I even wondered why.

I watched them go until they were out of sight. Then I followed them down the same corridor. About half of those girls were in Gryffindor like me. You know when you and another person said goodbye, but when you both turned to leave, it's in the same direction? That's the situation I wanted to avoid. I was incredibly talented at turning normal situations into awkward ones.

I was the first one of the Gryffindor sixth-year girls back to the dorm. I threw down my bag, tossed off my shoes, and hopped onto my four poster bed. I sat criss-crossed, setting the chest down in front of me. For the second time tonight, I used _alohomora_ to unlock the chest.

Inside were several items. On top were two letters, both addressed to me. The first one I recognized the hand writing as my mother's; the second's hand writing was elegant and unfamiliar to me. I opened the one from my mother first:

 _Dear Charlotte,_

 _We missed you this Easter. It was the first Easter without you and everyone really missed you._

 _Guess what? We almost had a security leak with your grandmother during Easter supper! She of course wondered where you were, and we told them you decided to stay at school to study. She never heard of a school that students could stay at over the Easter holidays. Obviously we couldn't tell her about Hogwarts, the family being muggles and all. It was almost a total disaster! Your father and I were spluttering to make an excuse. By then all your aunts, uncles, cousins, and your great-aunt Dorothy were listening. Colton saved the day by letting out a huge, disgusting belch. While I'm ashamed of his methods, he certainly took the attention off of you! Grandma Ward was furious though. Especially when the children started replicating Colton._

I smiled at the thought of Colton belching at the formal Ward Easter dinner. My grandmother would certainly have been furious. I could just imagine how some spittal would spittle would fly in Colton's general direction.

 _Inside this chest (I hope you like it) there's another letter. You'll recall that your cousin Rebecca got engaged last month? They sent out the invitations two weeks ago actually. I've taken the liberty to send in your RSVP; I hope that's alright._

 _I also sent you some gold as well as some quid. Buy yourself a reward for doing so well this year!_

I looked in the chest, and in a purple velvet bag were about twenty or so galleons and one-hundred quid. I shook my head. I had at least that much left over from Christmas, but that was my parents for you. With a father the head of Human Resources at Lloyds Banking and a mother who loved giving, this was the result. I looked back at the letter.

 _Keep up the good work! We can't wait to see you in June!_

 _Love you!_

 _Mum_

 _P.S. Can you keep an eye on Colton? I think he might have a girlfriend, but I'm no sure…_

I snorted at that last comment. Knowing Cole, he probably did have a girlfriend. Or at least several girls that wanted to be his girlfriend. Cole had no bounds when it came to his social life. I had a working theory that my mother's womb forgot to give me the social skills gene, and when Cole was being manufactured, the womb gave him the normal dose plus the dose it forgot to give to me. My logic skills are flawless.

I set down my mother's letter and picked up the second envelope. I paused to appreciate the elegant loops and curves of the calligraphy before ripping the envelope open. The invitation was white with gray and periwinkle blue accents.

 _The honor of your presence_

 _is requested at the marriage of_

 _Rebecca_

 _Moraine_

 _Joseph_

 _Abbey_

 _12 July_

I stopped reading after I saw the date. I bit my lip. My friend Ralph had invited me to visit him over the summer. His mother lives in Cornwall, but his father lives in Friesland, in the Netherlands. The divorce settlement has him with his father in July and with his mother in June and August. Specifically, Ralph invited me to stay for the 10th-16th of July.

I picked my mother's letter back up and frowned. It was in my last letter, the one I sent home with Cole, that I asked my parents if I could go and visit Ralph. I scanned through her letter again, just to make sure. She hadn't said anything regarding Ralph. Knowing my mother, however, the lack of an answer plus the invitation was probably her answer. Whenever I mentioned Ralph's name at home, mother would purse her lips and change the topic. It didn't help that all last summer Cole referred to Ralph as my boyfriend. Because he wasn't. Ralph was just a friend.

I set aside both letters and the velvet bag to pick up the last items in the chest. Carefully folded were the previous two weeks' copy of _The Economist_ and last Thursday's edition of the _Times_. I smiled fondly at them. Though there was no note, these were from my dad.

Most other muggle borns enrolled at Hogwarts seemed to put aside their muggle heritage without a backwards glance. Perhaps they hung onto their favorite book or music. Maybe they caught up on films and TV programs over break. My parents, however, refused to let things slide. During summer breaks I was tutored in algebra, biology, history, and Latin. This didn't work out so well with Cole, as he prefered racing around on his broomstick. Nevertheless, I didn't want to lose my muggle heritage. Hence the newspapers.

I was about to open _The Economist_ when I heard several pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs. I almost growled in frustration, knowing my peace was about to be destroyed. I quickly shoved the letters and velvet bag in the chest. Nonverbally I cast _pulvino_ , a cushioning spell, and _colloportus ustulo_ on the chest, which locked it with a little something extra.

The door burst open and four girls strolled in chattering like seagulls: Delta Asher, Elizabeth Banks, Ivy Cox, and Alexandra Day. Kitty had dubbed them the 'ABCD' girls, based on their surnames. I thought it was hilarious, but when Kitty let it slip one day last year, they vanished their hair. Incidentally, a few hours later, Delta had a shocking case of boils mysteriously break out around her unmentionables. Poor girl thought she had contracted STDs. They never did catch the culprit.

The ABCDs ignored me for a few minutes as they gobbled on about Ivy's new lipstick. They fussed in front of the mirror, peering at themselves from every which angle. I tried to read the first article in _The Economist_ (debating the ethics of the sanctions on Qatar), but their shrill laughter was distracting. With a sigh a put the two reads on my nightstand. The papers would have to wait until tomorrow, as would my letter to my parents regarding Ralph. With my options being either escape or sleep, I decided on sleep. It was getting to be that time anyways. As I gathered my pajamas, Elizabeth walked over to my bed.

"Hello, Charlotte," she said warmly, leaning against one of my bedposts.

"Hey," I greeted, not unkindly.

"How was your holiday?" she asked. The other three girls simmered down in volume.

I shrugged. "Pretty good. I stayed here."

Elizabeth cocked her head. "Really? Whatever for?"

"I just wanted to study," I said simply. I threw my pajamas on my bed and shut my trunk.

"Don't you normally have the library to yourself anyways?" sneered Ivy from across the dorm.

"No," Delta squealed. "That Ryan kid is always with her!"

"His name is Ralph," I said flatly, glaring at Delta.

"What-ever," she giggled and flipped her long black hair. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you got there?" asked Alex, her eyes fixed on the chest.

"Oh, I just got that. From my mum."

Alex nodded slowly, still looking at the chest.

I let them be and shuffled into our bathroom. I prefered night showers. Besides, it was just way too much work to fight for space in the morning with those four and Kitty.

I showered and brushed my teeth quickly. It was as I combed my hair I heard a shriek of pain and several gasps. I threw down my comb, picked up my wand, and rushed out of the bathroom. I narrowed my eyes at the sight I saw.

Alex was clutching her hand to her body and rocking back and forth. Elizabeth was trying to look at Alex's hand. Delta and Ivy were prodding my chest, which was now on the floor.

I nonverbally levitated my chest back to sitting on my bed. Ivy stepped back, but Delta took a step towards me.

"What did you do that for?" Delta rounded on me.

"Do what?" I shot back.

"You hurt Alex!" Delta pointed her finger at me. Behind her, Ivy scowled.

"Did I?" I asked innocently.

"The hell you did!"

I shrugged. "Did I know she's pick up _my_ stuff and try to get into it? No. But would it be the first time she's gone through my stuff? Or the second? Or the third? Or the -"

"You can't just spell your stuff so it hexes us!" Delta interrupted.

"Well maybe she shouldn't touch my stuff. It wouldn't have shocked her if she hadn't tried to unlock it," I explained, desperately trying to not raise my voice. I wasn't afraid of a fight, but I didn't exactly seek them out either. "The chest could have been picked up and not shocked anyone. It's only when you try to unlock it without the right spell does it shock the thief."

"Thief?" Alex squeaked. "I just wanted to look."

"Then why, pray tell, didn't you just ask?" I said with a flat voice.

"Because you would have said no."

"Which is well within my right because _it's my stuff_." I said finally. I went back into the bathroom and gathered my things. Emerging I ignored their glares and indignant looks. It served them right, the spell did. And it wasn't a strong shock anyway; just enough to make the person surprised and drop the chest.

I held my head high as I walked to my bed. In doing so, I didn't see Delta stick out her foot. I fell down with an _oomph_. My face flushed pink as the room erupted into giggles.

"Bitch," spat Delta from above.

Nothing wanting to give them any satisfaction, I ignored them, furious though as I was. I hung my robes in my dresser and crawled into bed. With as much dignity as I could muster, I pulled my curtains around my bed and laid down. It was hard to fall asleep with all the giggles.

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* * *

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"She called you a what?!" Kitty exclaimed the next morning.

"Shh!" I hushed her, glancing around the breakfast table.

"Did she really call you that?" she hissed, leaning over her plate. I nodded. "I can't believe her! Was Elizabeth there?" I nodded again. "She's a prefect! My word!"

"Kitty, it's fine," I said as I buttered my toast. "All in all, it was pretty funny."

"Not them tripping you, though."

"Well, it wasn't funny to me, but-"

"Ugh!" Kitty slammed down her fist. "They're such - they're so-"

"Yeah, I know," I agreed.

Kitty shook her head. Then she said: "Was that shock spell a new one?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I came up with it over break. I was so tired of Alex snooping through our stuff."

"Can you teach me it? I haven't bought pink underwear in two freakin' years because she always takes it!" Kitty waved her fork around in the air as she spoke. "I mean, come on? Who steals underwear, just in general? But then who steals selective pink underwear? Who _does_ that?"

I snort. "She's an odd one, she is. But, yeah, of course I'll teach the spell to you. I can't believe I didn't think of something like this sooner."

"Anyway, enough about the ABCDs," said Kitty, waving her fork in the air as if trying to clear the air.

"How was your holiday?" I asked.

"It was fine," Kitty said with a shrug. "Mum's business has a new line of hair curlers. I brought some for us."

"Oh, nice," I said. Kitty's mother owned a salon in Diagon Alley.

"How was Hogwarts?" Kitty asked.

"Great, actually," I answered. "I did some exploring. Had tea with Hagrid."

"Right, and how many spells did you invent?"

"Ha. Ha."

"Knowing you, you probably invented ten in first day," joked Kitty.

I gave her a deadpan look before saying, "Other than the shock-lock spell, I managed to finish one that I've been working on; I'll show it to you later. It's kind of a defense-ish spell?"

"Oho, I'm curious," Kitty humored me, but I knew she was interested.

"The other one I've been working on… I just can't seem to get it."

"I'm sure you will," Kitty assured me. "You always do."

"Maybe," I replied sheepishly.

"Hey, um, how long is your Charms essay?" Kitty asked, changing the subject.

"Seventeen inches," I replied. "Why? How long is yours?"

"It's…" Kitty opened her bag and sifted through the contents. "Oh drat! I forgot it upstairs!"

"You better run and get it," I said, glancing at my watch. We had Double Charms first thing, but there was still time.

Kitty stood up and booked it across the Hall, yelling, "Save me some toast!"

I cringed at the people who gave her odd looks but laughed regardless. With a few minutes to myself, I pulled out the newspapers my dad sent me. The _Times_ had shorter articles, so I began with that one.

I almost choked on my juice as I read the front page headline: "Terrorist Attack in the Heart of London". What in the world. What was going on in the muggle world? I quick glanced around the Great Hall, but the atmosphere was normal. The staffs' table also seemed unperturbed. More alarming, Cole hadn't said anything to me last night about the attack. Did people not realize? Did they not know? Or did they just not care?

Shocked and morbidly curious, my eyes poured over the article, drinking in the words as fast as I could. Some lunatic placed a bomb in some rubbish bins outside a primary school. Two children were dead and four injured. The coppers hadn't caught the man, or woman, who carried out the deed.

"Charlotte!"

My body jumped. My mind was still in the article. I jerked my head up as Kitty ran over to me. I blinked up at her, momentarily disoriented.

"Charlotte, what are you doing? We're going to be late!"

I looked back down at the article, then back up at Kitty. "Kitty, there was a _bomb-_ "

"Charlotte, let's go!" Kitty interrupted me. She gave my robes a tug.

I eventually let out a sigh. "Yes. Right. Class." Somehow class seemed far away. There had been a bombing. But it wasn't like missing class to dwell on that fact was going to help anyone, was it? I grabbed my bag, downed the rest of my orange juice, and together with Kitty, raced to class.


	2. 2 Unexpected Awkward Group Projects

Our first class on Mondays was Double Charms. It was pretty uneventful, unless you count Flitwick giving his studying-for-end-of-term-exams speech. He also passed out study guides, which might have proven useful. I've learned that the trick to studying isn't rereading material or your notes; the trick is to have been reviewing it all throughout the year.

I sat between Kitty and Ralph, as per usual. And also, as usual, my two friends only talked to me and not to each other. That goes way back to third year when I first introduced them to one another. It probably also has to do with that one time at the start of fourth year when Kitty accused Ralph of having a crush on me. He denied it, of course. We're just friends. Kitty eventually dropped it, but I suspect she maintains her suspicions. Did their silent feud years later make Charms class incredibly awkward? Oh yeah.

When the bell rang, everyone clamored to gather their things. I didn't fail to noticed Kitty's look of disdain as Ralph waited for me. She rolled her eyes as she walked passed us, and said, "See you at lunch." Obviously, she meant me, not Ralph.

As soon as Kitty left, the atmosphere became considerably lighter.

"So how was Hogwarts?" asked Ralph as we started to walk towards Ancient Runes. "Did you enjoy being by yourself?"

"Oh, I loved it," I replied. "Peace and quiet."

"I still wish I could have stayed with you," said Ralph wistfully. "But the divorce - I had to stay-"

"- Stay with your mum, yeah," I finished his sentence. Ralph grinned. "And how was your mum?"

Ralph shrugged and dropped his gaze. "Same old, same old."

"In other words," I said. "Complaining about your dad the whole week?"

"That about covers it."

"Hey, Ralph," I began, trying to find the right words to tell him about the wedding conflict. "So about me coming to stay with you this summer."

"Yes!" His whole face lit up. "I can't wait for you to visit and it's not even summer yet!"

"Yeah, so-"

"Dad's already arranged for you to come," continued Ralph. "The Magical Dutch Ministry has been notified and everything!"

"Oh, great," I said sarcastically, but Ralph didn't catch it.

"I can't wait to show you our trumpeting swans! I mean, they once tried to eat me when I was five, but they're beautiful, really…"

I bit my lip as Ralph continued his monologue with hand gestures. I had rarely seen him so excited for something. Call me a coward, but I didn't have the heart to break the news to him just then.

Ralph and I had a small break after Ancient Runes before lunch. Kitty, who didn't take Ancient Runes, was now in her Divination class. As we had done all year until it was habit, Ralph and I made our way to the library to edit our translation assignment for Ancient Runes. We had a major revision due on Thursday. Both of us had finished it over the holidays, but we wanted to edit each other's work before submitting it.

Two corridors away from the library were heard a commotion: screaming, laughter, bangs that could only be magical, and several squealing hogs. I looked at Ralph as he looked at me. He had a worried expression on his face, but I let out a giggle. Squealing hogs?

I marched my way through the growing crowd to find the source of the noise. Ralph followed but more hesitantly. Several people were running away from the source, but there were definitely more who were congregating.

James Potter, Fred Weasley, Alfie Lancaster, and Finn Campbell were, for the lack of a better word, playing with two hogs. From what I could gather, it was some sort of game. It looked something like football, except they had two hogs instead of a ball. Potter and Lancaster were on one team, Weasley and Campbell on the other. They were kicking the hogs, of course, but instead directing their respective hog to the opposing team's side. I noticed that they had magicked a thick red line near the two ends of the corridor. I supposed that the hog must cross the line for that team to win. But I didn't wait to find out.

"C'mon," I muttered to Ralph, but he didn't hear me over the noise. "Let's go," I said louder, nudging him with my elbow.

"Um, what?"

"Let's go," I repeated. "To the library."

"You want to cross _that_?" He balked.

I rolled my eyes but laughed. Six years of being in the same House as James Potter and his little posse had taught me not to quiver at their antics. I wanted to get to the library, and nobody, not even James Potter and his squealing hogs were going to stop me.

"You're not scared, are you?" I teased Ralph.

"You're the Gryffindor, not me," he replied. I barked a laugh and then pushed Ralph out from the wall of students and into the corridor, knowing full well he wouldn't follow if I went first. I strode out across the corridor, ignoring Ralph's whimper as he trailed behind me and the gasps of shock coming from the crowd. It was unbelievable, really, that most of the student body hero-worshiped James Potter for something his dad did. He shouldn't be able to get away with something like this.

"Watch it, Ward!" shouted Fred Weasley.

"You watch it," I grumbled under my breath. He wasn't much better than his cousin.

We were about half-way across when one of the hogs veered towards me, but I side-stepped and dodged it. Ralph wasn't as fortunate or coordinated. Hearing a cry, I spun around to see the hog trampling Ralph. I grabbed my wand just in time as the hog turned back to charge me for second-course. _Protego_ , I thought, flicking my wand. The hog hit my shield charm so hard it literally bounced back twice before landing hard. It scrambled to its feet, snorted, and narrowed its watery eyes on me. I smirked and muttered a few choice spells: the raging hog transformed with a _poof_ into a fluttering butterfly.

"Seriously, Ward?" hollered Alfie Lancaster from the other side of the corridor.

I shrugged. "Don't be a hazard."

"Don't be a spoil-sport!" he shot back.

The other hog was still running and kicking near Fred Weasley, who put up a shield charm of his own to redirect it.

"Don't just stand there, Ward!" called James Potter. "Either pick a side and join or leave!"

"Join?" I said agast. As if. I leaned over and helped Ralph stand shakily to his feet.

"Don't bother asking her, James," called Finn Campbell. "It's Ward; she'll only join us when _pigs fly_."

At that, the four boys spluttered in their laughter. I glanced at the butterfly. I guessed that joke was on me, since I made the pig fly. I shook my head and said, "This is madness."

" _Hog_ warts Rumble Tumble _is_ madness," retorted Fred Weasley gleefully. "But that's the point!"

I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time today, but chose not to reply to that. I wanted to get out of there before a professor showed up. We left the boys to their antics, and as Ralph and I were about turn the corner into the corridor adjacent the library, I looked back. The butterfly was gone and there were once again two hogs squealing and running around in the corridor.

I stared at my quill as I twirled it absentmindedly in my hand. I was supposed to be reading over Ralph's translation but I kept on getting distracted. I had to tell Ralph about the wedding. Procrastinating on telling him would only hurt his feelings, but I didn't know how to tell him.

"Charlotte, everything okay?"

I glanced up to find Ralph staring at me.

"Oh, uh, yup," I said. I pressed my lips together and gave an awkward nod.

"Something on your mind?" asked Ralph.

"Well," I said bracingly as I set down my quill. Best to get it over with. "My mom gave Cole a package for me." I cleared my throat rather unnecessarily. "There was a letter from her in it as well as a wedding invitation. My cousin is getting married. Yay. And, um, well, the date they set is the 12th of July." I cringed as I said the last sentence.

"The 12th?" sputtered Ralph. "But that's when you're visiting me!"

"Yes," I agreed. "So you see my problem."

"Can they move the wedding?" asked Ralph.

"Move- move the wedding?" I gaped at him. "They're not going to move their big day just so I can visit you!"

"Well you could ask! We've been looking forward to this for weeks!"

"Ralph," I said. "They're getting _married._ They've been dating for, like, two years."

"We've been friends longer than that!" He threw down the quill he had been using.

"Ralph," I said, trying to calm him down. "You're being a bit ridiculous-"

"Then just skip the wedding!" Ralph interrupted. "I have everything planned, just for you!"

I blinked at him, rather confused. I had figured he'd be upset, but like bummed kind of upset, not irate kind of upset.

"Look, there's no way that my mom will allow me to _skip_ the wedding-"

"Have you asked? Did you?" Ralph's face was getting redder and redder.

"Well, no-"

"Ask her then!" demanded Ralph.

I gaped at him once more. "I intend to," I said, a bit colder than I meant.

"Good," said Ralph forcefully.

I picked my quill back up, but didn't feel like editing Runes anymore. This whole conversation had become incredibly uncomfortable. Ralph was behaving very un-Ralph-ish. When I glanced back at him, he was looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you out of parchment?" he said.

"For what?"

"For writing the letter to your mom!" he said exasperatedly.

"I… I'm not going to write to her at this minute," I hissed, shocked.

"Why not?"

"Because!" I nearly yelled. "Because I'm trying to revise your Runes!" And I guess something in me snapped at that last part, because I threw down his Runes translation, grabbed mine and my bag, and abruptly left Ralph where he was.

I was still fuming when I sat down for lunch. Ralph was my friend, but I felt indignant at what he expected me to do. I was already planning to write to my mom about the dates, but something about how Ralph expected me to right then and there write to her really rubbed me the wrong way.

There was a _thump_ beside me on the bench, and a waft of fruity body spray told me it was Kitty before she even opened her mouth. "You'll never guess what I saw in the tea leaves today- hey… what's wrong?"

I sighed. "I guess I kind of got into a fight with Ralph?"

"Is that question?"

"I don't know what happened," I said moodily, stabbing my potatoes with a fork.

Kitty let silence come between us for a minute. "So, are you going to tell me what happened or will you continue to decimate your potatoes?"

I let out a half-hearted snort. "Well...," I began. "Oh, that's right. I didn't get the chance to tell you. My cousin is getting married on the 12th of July."

"Oho, congratulations."

I nodded. "But that conflicts with the dates I'm supposed to visit Ralph in the Netherlands."

At the words, "visit Ralph," Kitty pursed her lips.

"What?"

"'What' what?"

"You're making that face again!" I said.

"What face? No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," I insisted. "It's your 'I don't like Ralph' face."

"Well, I don't like him," Kitty said bluntly. "But you know that." I nodded. "I just… don't like the idea of you visiting him over the summer."

"Why not?" I asked.

Kitty shrugged and avoided my eyes. She began piling food onto her plate.

"Kitty," I urged.

She closed her eyes for dramatic effect. "You _know_. That thing back in fourth year that you don't like talking about."

"Oh, that thing. You mean your theory that Ralph has been secretly harboring a crush on me all these years?"

"Well, yes. That thing."

I scoffed. "Kitty, I'm sure like I was back then. We don't like each other like that."

"Well, _you_ don't like him like. Thank Merlin," she muttered. "But Ralph-"

"Doesn't like me," I finished her sentence.

Kitty turned to face me directly. "Then how'd he take it? You not being able to visit him."

It was my turn to look away. "Not so well," I admitted.

"He upset?"

"Yeah."

"How upset?" Kitty asked with false sweetness.

"Well, see, now that's why I'm upset," I said. "I knew he'd be upset, but like bummed, you know? He was downright livid! I don't think I've ever seen Ralph that angry."

"Wait, hold on," said Kitty, holding up her right index finger. "He got angry at you?"

"Yeah," I said. "It was so stupid. He asked me to ask my cousin to move the date of the wedding!"

"He did not!"

"He did! And then he asked me if I had written to my mom if I could skip - she'll probably say no - and I haven't yet, but I was going to. And then he got all in a huff that I wasn't writing the letter right then and there!"

"Did you get angry? I hoped you yelled at him." Kitty made a hopeful face.

I gave her a deadpan look. "I may have… and then stormed out…"

"Charlotte Ward," Kitty congratulated, slapping me on the back. "I'm so proud of you."

"Shut up," I joked.

"We need to celebrate," proposed Kitty. "Celebrate that you finally see Ralph for what he truly is!"

"No. Um, no," I cut her off. "There's nothing to celebrate. And I'm in the middle of a problem here, thank you. Ralph and I fought, and we never fight. Now it's all awkward. It doesn't feel right."

"Don't you dare think of apologizing to him," warned Kitty, suddenly serious. "He should not have gotten so upset over something like this. You will not apologize. Right, Charlotte?"

I hesitated. "I guess…"

She continued to stare at me, all serious. I gave her a small smile and nudged her until she laughed. I joined in with a giggle. Our conversation drifted into more pleasant topics, and before we knew it, lunch was almost over.

"Alright," sighed Kitty. "I better get going." She had Care of Magical Creatures, and it was a bit of a walk to the paddock. I, on the other hand, had the rest of the afternoon off. Kitty looked over to the Ravenclaw table. I followed her gaze and with an uncomfortable squirm realized that Ralph was staring at me. When our eyes met, his mournful expression turned hopeful.

"Charlotte," said Kitty with a meaningful look. "Do you want to walk me to the courtyard?"

I looked at Ralph, then back at Kitty. It felt wrong being out of sync with Ralph, but I didn't think I was quite ready to let it go how he treated me. "I would love to."

Ralph also had Care of Magical Creatures, so I was guaranteed a Ralph-free afternoon, as long as he didn't track me down during the last period of the day. Just to make sure, I went to an unused classroom that neither Ralph nor Kitty knew about.

I actually had discovered the room over Easter break. Nearly Headless Nick told me about it when we crossed paths when I was exploring. It was such a lovely room. It reminded me of the Great Hall, but smaller, about the size of a large classroom. Instead of the tables and chairs, it was empty. Most mysteriously, the room had windows. It must have been magic, because the room was in the middle of the castle. But somehow, I could see outside onto the grounds. Through the north window, I could see Hagrid's hut. Or through the east window I could see the Quidditch pitch. It was a remarkable room.

In addition to the magical windows, the room had hardwood floors and glowing chandeliers propped up between each window. They must have also been magically lit because they never seemed to wane.

When I reached the room on the fifth floor, I looked both ways to make sure no one was around. Then I reached down and plucked my wand. Certain bricks needed to be tapped on the wall in order for a door to appear. Strangely enough, it was the same position and order as the bricks to get into Diagon Alley.

Once I tapped on the bricks, a humble door appeared before my eyes. With one last look down the corridors, I opened the door and stepped into the room.

It was exactly as I had left it. Of course, there was nothing in the room to not leave it as I found it. Nevertheless, there was a certain familiarity about the room that brought me comfort. I couldn't say for sure, but something about it reminded me of home.

I set my bookbag down against the wall and stepped into the center of the room. I spun around on the hardwood floor, my robes fanning out.

Then, suddenly and dramatically, only because no one could see me, I whipped out my wand and pretended I was in some high-stakes duel. "Whaaa!" My imaginary duel continued until it had me giggling laying on the floor. After I caught my breath, I felt satisfied that I was good and relaxed to begin.

I learned that if I'm stressed, I get easily frustrated. And being frustrated with yourself is no place to be working on invented spells. Inventing spells could be hard and disappointing work. I liked to start my time with spells that I liked to perform and spells that I had already invented.

I toyed with one of my favorites first. I came across this spell last year. It was a useful little spell, called the Wand Pocket. What it did was create a space for you to put your wand. Most people kept their wands in their pants or robe pocket when not in use. This spell allowed you to make a "pocket" of a sorts for your wand. You could choose where the "pocket" was. For my place, I chose my outer upper right thigh. The "pocket" was attached to my person, not to my clothes. And it was invisible and undetectable. When my wand was attached, it too was invisible and undetectable unless I grabbed it. The spell is called the Wand Pocket, but really the spell functioned more like magnets than a pocket.

Sitting on that hardwood floor, I plucked my wand from the Wand Pocket, and then set it against my thigh. I tapped my thigh with my index finger to start the spell and watched my wand turn invisible. I repeated it several times, watching my wand appear and disappear. After six years of being immersed in the magical world, I was still blown away by all the possibilities.

I practiced several other spells that I had invented or tweaked over my years at Hogwarts. I felt good, like I was on a roll.

" _Tenentes lumino pila,"_ I whispered to the room. In front of me, about fifteen feet away, appeared a bright ball of light about the size of my fist. It glowed, and if light balls could be happy, I would say that this ball of light was happy. It bobbed up and down. Little rays trailed after the ball. It was beautiful.

But I didn't want it to be beautiful; I wanted it to explode and have light spill out from it. Because wouldn't that be awesome?

I twisted my wand at the ball of light, but nothing happened. I frowned. That twist should do it. I twisted my wand again, but still nothing happened. "Oh, come on!" I muttered. I shook out my arm and then raised my wand once more. Again I twisted my wand to the right.

My wand suddenly gave off a small electrical shock. I yelped and dropped my wand in surprise. As I bent down to pick up my wand, there was a sad little _pop_. I looked up in time to see my bright ball of light deflating like a punctured balloon. It deflated until it disappeared in total, and my expectations deflated right along with it.

I sat back down, criss-cross, and gingerly picked up my wand. It didn't shock me again, but I was still cautious. I had never heard of a wand shocking its owner. How peculiar.

Later that night I sat on my bed, pondering the events of the day. Kitty was again spending the evening with her beloved Brian. The rest of my roommates were in the common room, the last time I saw them. Starting on my Charms assignment was a good idea, but I didn't feel like starting it without Kitty.

I sighed. I didn't have anything else to do in the dorm, so I might as well get a start on it. I opened my book bag and as I pulled out my CharmWorks book, I noticed the newspaper from this morning.

"The bombing," I murmured. I had totally forgotten about that. This morning seemed like two days ago. Forgetting all about Charms, I opened the paper to read the article for more detail.

This morning I had gleaned the jist of what had happened: someone had placed a bomb in some rubbish bins outside of a primary school. Two children had died in the explosion and four more were injured. The coppers hadn't yet caught the perpetrator. The article quoted a Police Jones saying, "We're hunting down all possible leads." I snorted. That meant that they had no leads.

It was tragic. I was sure those children didn't think that day would be any different. Their parents didn't know that morning they were sending their children off to a death zone. Nobody knew, except the bastard who placed the bomb.

"Good morning, class," greeted Professor Longbottom. Few returned his greeting; he was much too chipper for first thing in the morning. "I hope you all did your homework, because today's lesson will be its application." Our assignment over Easter break had been to research different kinds of fertilizer. "There are seven different kind of plants in this greenhouse and in greenhouse four that are tagged with a red cloth. You'll be in groups, and as a group you need to decide firstly which fertilizer base to use, and then which spell, if any, to cast on the soil or the plant. Get into groups of four or five - there's five of each kind of plant. Begin."

Kitty and I looked at each other and then over at the twenty or so other students. Usually for group projects of this size we'd pair with Ralph and some of his friends, but by silent agreement we opted out for that option. The problem was, everyone else found their group with in seconds. And before we knew it, we were staring down the work table at the only other two people who were not in a group: Ralph and his friend, Gordon Crawley.

"Great," I muttered.

"Yeah, just bloody perfect," agreed Kitty, glowering at Ralph.

"C'mon, let's get over there before people start staring," I sighed.

"No," said Kitty, folding her arms across her chest. "Let them come to us."

With one look at Ralph, I very much doubted he would. He looked like a deer in the headlights, unsure of whether to go left or right.

"He's not going to willingly come over here," I insisted. "You scare him way to much."

Kitty gasped and laid her hand over her heart. "What is this that you speak of? Me? A scary person?"

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"I'm just being me," said Kitty stiffly. "If he can't handle that, well…"

It was actually Gordon who approached us, with Ralph in tow. Apparently he had no idea of the current rift between Ralph and I. When Ralph shuffled to a stop, he avoided my eyes.

"Shall we get started?" Gordon suggested. All the other groups had begun.

"That Elephant Fern is free," suggested Kitty, nodding with her head toward the towering plant.

"Let's start there," said Gordon, smiling at Kitty.

Throughout working on the Elephant Fern and the second plant, Cackling Carnations, Kitty and I chatting amiably with Gordon. Ralph didn't join in our conversation. I did feel bad for him, though. He was incredibly downcast and wasn't saying a word. Several times I opened my mouth to say something to him, but Kitty cut me off each time. After the Cackling Carnations, I suspected that Gordon began to think something was up. Our conversation slowly died down to an awkward silence.

I was ever so glad when class finished. Normally I would enjoy this kind of Herbology class, what with all the problem solving and spellwork.

"Can I speak with you?"

I looked up from packing my bag to see Ralph standing before me. He was fumbling nervously with his book bag strap as his watery blue eyes ventured to finally meet mine. I nodded.

Beside me Kitty let out a huff and crossed her arms over her chest again.

Ralph's eyes flickered over to Kitty, and nearly whispered, "Alone?"

"Okay," I said, caving in.

"Charlotte-" started Kitty.

I cut her off. "I'll see you at lunch."

Kitty pressed her lips together. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Kitty sniffed once and stomped off back to the castle.

There was an awkward few seconds as Ralph and I just looked at each other. "So…?"

"Yeah," said Ralph. He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say that I'm really, really, really sorry for what I said yesterday. It was totally out of line. Can you forgive me?"

Any anger that I had been harboring melted away instantly. "Of course," I conceded warmly.

"Friends?" he said tentatively.

"Friends," I agreed confidently.

I had to run, literally run, to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the bell still rung before I got there. "Dragon dung," I muttered as I rounded the last corner.

When I pushed open the doors to the classroom, Professor Harper was already speaking. She paused slightly when she saw me (I was usually never late), but continued on about reviewing spells.

Frustratingly the back rows were already taken, and I had walk past half the class to a middle row. I was still breathing hard. The moment I sat down, Delta leaned forward from the row behind me and whispered, "Did Ryan take your breath away?"

There were soft giggles from behind. I closed my eyes and ignored Delta and Alex's laughter, hoping Harper would notice. No such luck.

"You've got weird taste, Ward," continued Delta. "The greenhouses aren't exactly romantic. But maybe the smell of dirt turns you on."

I gritted my teeth, but didn't respond.

"No, I know," breathed Delta. I could barely hear her. "It turns _him_ on. Maybe you should roll around in dirt to make him happy."

I was fuming, but as I debated about which hex would be best, my thoughts were interrupted:

"Miss Ward, are you listening to me?" I opened my eyes and found Harper standing over my desk, hands on her hips. Shoot.

"I-uh, sorry, Professor," I stammered. "Could you repeat that?" There was more giggling from behind me.

Harper's face was a mixture of irritation and concern. "Perhaps Miss Ward you could perform the Patronus Charm for us all, if you please."

"Yes, Professor." I stood up, and faced forward. I reached for my wand from my Pocket and raised my arm. " _Expecto patronum!_ "

A feeble wisp emitted from my wand. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Anger still pulsed through me. I wasn't able to let it drop.

" _Expecto patronum!"_ Again just a wisp of silvery white.

"Tut tut," said Harper, shaking her head. "Not your usual standard, Ward. Try and focus, will you?" Harper turned and walked back to the front of the class.

I lowered my eyes to the ground. Charms were my forte. As I turned to sit down, Delta's smirking face was before me. I raised my arm once more and pointed my wand a foot from Delta's face. Her smirk slid off as I imagined Ralph and I beating Delta in all our exams. " _Expecto patronum!_ "

A silvery fox landed on Delta's desk and bared its fangs. Delta let out a small shriek and pushed her chair backwards.

"Oh, sorry!" I wasn't sorry. "It must have thought you were a dementor!"

There was a quiet chuckle from the back of the room. I looked up to see who had laughed at my joke, but when I did, no one was laughing.

My fox pranced around the classroom in a half circle before dissipating. Professor Harper gave me three claps, and said, "Well done." I nodded and sat back down. My face reddened as I suddenly became aware that I was the focus of most people's attention.

"Don't worry," whispered Alex behind me to Delta. "I think you're much prettier than a dementor!" Delta groaned but I smiled. Alex was superbly gifted at backhanded compliments.

Until the end of class Harper wrapped up a segment on Protective Infrastructure spells that we had been studying for the past two weeks.

"Before you pack up, I want to announce your next assignment - it's a group project." I groaned. Second group project today and it wasn't even lunch yet. "This past year we've worked on different kinds of protective spells. And for several weeks now you've learned some advanced Protective Infrastructure spells. As you know, we could only study the theory, not the application. The spells layered on Hogwarts make it difficult for a witch or wizard of your caliber to cast an infrastructure spell on the castle. Not impossible, but difficult. So for you to get practice, we're going to take advantage of the visit to Hogsmeade this weekend."

The class immediately broke out complaining. It was the last Hogsmeade weekend this year.

Harper held up her hand and the voices died down. "I know you'd all probably be spending your time with your friends, so I'm sorry. But if you studied properly, it shouldn't take you more than a half an hour to do what I have planned.

"I will set up certain spots for you to work," explained Harper. "The spells I ask you to attempt to cast are cave inimicum, protego totalum, repello inimicum, salvio hexia, and fianto duri; basically the spells in chapter seventeen of your textbooks. I don't expect you to successfully cast all of them, to be honest, but I do expect you to do your best. As for your groups, you'll be in pairs…"

As Harper read the set of partners from a list, I smiled to myself. Though there wasn't anyone in Defense that I would particularly enjoy being paired with, I could definitely perform all those enchantments, and then some.

"Charlotte Ward and Jack Morgan…"

My stomach dropped and I felt my face begin to flush. I didn't look over at Jack. In fact, I refused to look over at him. I didn't trust myself. Harper could have paired me with anyone, _anyone_ , even Delta, and I would have made it work. Anybody but Jack Morgan.


	3. 3 The Roar of Three Broomsticks

Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop was without contest the single most revolting place in Hogsmeade. Many girls described the cafe as cute. I agreed that the place was cute, but as in a cherub's butt is cute. As I peered through the windows from outside the cafe I couldn't help but think that the decor resembled unicorn vomit. At least it wasn't Valentine's Day; then I think I would have to wear sunglasses to make sure my eyes don't get fried from all the radiant glitter.

"Well?" asked Kitty standing beside me. "What do you think?"

"It's very pink," I observed.

"A little _too_ pink, don't you think?"

"I think I'd rather have a date in the Shrieking Shack," I joked. Kitty giggled.

"I don't mind, I guess," said Kitty. "Brian's paying."

"If he pays, I guess he gets to choose," I conceded.

"It's just… the romantic vibe would be so much more effective if she just toned down on the pink frills!" Kitty pointed out. "I love the idea of a romantic cafe, really, but it's like she picked every single romantic concept and put every single one of them in the cafe! There's cherubs and fountains, white tile and wood, but also steel. Mellow cello music, but also horns that blast confetti. Roses and carnations. Red and pink! Would it kill her to have an accent color? How about some green ivy? Hm? But no - just red and pink. It's killing me."

"Hmm," I commented, but Kitty had a point. The place would be much more approachable if the Madam would gut half the place.

"Well, nothing I can do about it now," Kitty sighed.

"We can always torch it and run," I suggested.

"Tempting, but I already see Brian inside," said Kitty. "I don't want my boyfriend maimed, even if it's for a good cause."

I barked out a laugh but then Kitty's brilliant smile faded. Turning to face me directly, she asked, "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

My grin faded as well. "Yeah," I said offhandedly, not wanting to address the hippogriff in the room.

"When was the last time you talked to Jack?" asked Kitty. "Like actually had a genuine conversation?"

I shrugged. For the past few days Kitty had been persistently trying to get me to open up about Jack Morgan. She had been unsuccessful. I was very good at changing the topic.

"You shouldn't keep Brian waiting," I said.

Kitty frowned and glanced over at Madam Puddifoot's to where Brian was seated in a booth. Turning back to me, she said, "I'm not through with you."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"I expect a full report when we meet up in Three Broomsticks."

"Aye-aye, Captain," I said, in mock salute.

"Just remember - he's a jerk, and you're awesome."

"Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes but smiling nonetheless.

"Good luck!" Kitty said. She gave me a wave and ducked into the superfluous pink cafe.

I stood there for a moment, watching Kitty find her table with Brian. She looked radiant with her golden blonde curls bouncing as she spoke words I couldn't hear. Brian was a lucky guy to have her.

I turned my back to Madam Puddifoot's, sighing as I did so. In that moment, I'd rather be stuck in that revolting cafe than meet Jack for our Defense project. Still, my feet carried me to our designated spot.

I found a stake on top of a bluff a little ways outside the village. A piece of red cloth was tied to the top of the stake. Written on it were the names _Morgan, Jack_ and _Ward, Charlotte_. What a bloody coincidence. Out of all the sixth years in Defense Against the Dark Arts, _we're_ put together.

It's hard to believe it now, but Jack and I used to be best friends. I suppose it started with how our mothers had been best friends since they were our age, and when Jack's father died prematurely in a car accident, my parents took in the heavily pregnant Tracy Morgan. Jack and I practically grew up together.

The Hogwarts letter came to both me and Jack. What were the chances? It was unheard of that two unrelated muggle-borns knew each other before coming to Hogwarts. At the time, it was no secret that I was relieved that Jack was going too. Up until then, Jack was my one and only friend. The thought of being separated from him was inconceivable, and the relief that we would remain together was enormous.

That sense of relief and comfort was tainted when Jack was sorted into Slytherin and I into Gryffindor. With neither of us being from a wizarding family, we didn't understand the full implications of being in separate Houses: separate common rooms, separate tables, separate Quidditch stands, and two-thirds of our classes were separate. Furthermore, a muggle-born in Slytherin was something of an oddity; and my quiet and bookish personality made me the odd one out of the Gryffindor first years.

But we were happy, Jack and I. There was a whole new world for us to explore. Hogwarts had so many secrets waiting to be discovered. I in particular devoured books in the library, eager to absorb any and all knowledge I could get my hands on. Yes, Jack and I were happy during our first year.

Looking back on it, I can see where it started to go wrong. I'm still not sure if I blame him or myself. I'm not even sure it there really was a starting point or if it was just inevitable. For my whole life, Jack had been my only friend outside of family. I suppose I didn't really know how to make friends with others, but I didn't need to because I had Jack. Inversely, Jack had always been good with other people; he never struggled to make friends. And yes, I was fine when Jack hung out with some other friends during first year. I knew I couldn't monopolize him.

I sometimes wondered what life would be like if we hadn't found out about Jack's father.

It was me who had the brilliant idea of searching through the archives of Jack's father. As far as anyone knew, Jack was a muggle-born, but what if by some far-stretched chance that Jack's father had been a wizard? Around late winter we started paging through old Hogwarts class yearbooks for an Ulrich Morgan. It took us awhile, but just after our first year exams, to our surprise and Jack's delight, we found an Ulrich Morgan listed on a graduating class two decades ago. I still remember Jack's trembling hands as he fished out the photo of his dad he kept with him at all times. But I had seen that photo enough times to not need confirmation: the photos were a match. Jack's father Ulrich Morgan was a wizard.

At first it was great. Jack was so happy and excited, and I was right there with him. The thing was, this new revelation drew people to Jack. No longer was he the odd Slytherin muggle-born; now he was a half-blood from the Morgan wizarding family. The Morgan family was prestigious, old, and wealthy. Turned out he even had cousins here at Hogwarts.

Our ride back home on the Hogwarts Express was quite something. Seeing as how Jack became popular literally overnight, our compartment was flooded with visitors. Suddenly Jack had more friends than I could remember. People were bending over backwards to say hi or to offer him a chocolate frog.

I didn't say anything right then and there, but I was privately disgusted with people's behavior. They didn't care about Jack before, but as soon as they found out that he was from an old wizarding family, he was Mr. Popular. What baffled me even more was that Jack seemed to be enjoying the limelight.

That summer was equally upsetting. At the start everything between us was almost normal until about a week into break, Jack's paternal grandparents came to call, and with them a Healer from St. Mungo's. The Healer did some tests and confirmed that Jack was their grandson. His grandparents were thrilled because Ulrich had been their only son. Jack was their only progeny that carried their name Morgan. They bought Jack all new and expensive things, including a house not terribly far from me for Jack and his mother to live in. They even got a house-elf.

I didn't begrudge my best friend of his happiness and family, but I did miss him. That summer we didn't hang out nearly as much as we used to. In addition to having more miles between our houses, Jack was rarely home. That was strange. Every summer up til then Jack and I spent nearly every day of the holidays together. I couldn't owl him, seeing as I didn't have an owl, with my mother being deathly afraid of birds. Both our homes had telephones, but more often than not no one answered when I called. Several times my mother drove me to their house, but like with the phone calls, no one answered the door.

Around mid-July I remember asking Jack about where he went and what he was up to. He shrugged and said, "Hanging out with my friends." Then what was I, pray tell?

By the time September came around, I was glad because I had a naive hope that Jack and I would see more of each other than we had been over the summer.

Yeah, well. My biggest regret was not seeing the warning signs sooner; I still would have had a shattered heart, but at least I wouldn't have been played the fool. Hindsight sure was a bitch.

On September 1st I had to find - emphasis on the find - Jack on the Hogwarts Express. Before then it never had to be said that we would wait for each other; it was just implied. Apparently that unspoken courtesy had been disregarded. When I did find Jack, he hadn't even bothered to save me a seat. The compartment he was sitting in was already full and over crowded. And I had no desire to force my way into a stuffy compartment and sit on a stranger's lap.

That was how second year at Hogwarts began. I wouldn't say that Jack deliberately excluded me from his life or pushed me away. No, it was more that he didn't actively include me anymore. He didn't wait for me after class or share goodies from home. We still talked, but it was always I who approached him, and there were always his other friends around.

For weeks I didn't understand; I couldn't fathom the idea of Jack not being my best friend. Equally horrifying was the thought that Jack didn't want to be my best friend. But reality sunk in soon enough:

It was in late October, and I was walking to class while reading a book on the magical theory of invisibility (funny how one remembers the little details). I remember someone muttering a Trip Jinx and I went sprawling. Laughter erupted. My face flushing, I looked up, and some girls in my year were giggling at what they had accomplished. Standing next to them was Jack, who was also sniggering - at me. I remember how I barely held back a flood of tears that would cascade down my cheeks the moment I picked myself up and ran.

Betrayal. Jack betrayed me and our friendship. And Merlin did that hurt.

I remember hiding out in a tower the rest of the afternoon. After I cried myself out, my brain began putting the pieces together: Jack had changed. With numb realization, my heart lurched at all the little red flags that had been popping up over that past few months. Why didn't I see it?

Furthermore, why did Jack change? Because he found out who his dad really was? No… that didn't add up. I didn't know. I didn't know why Jack had changed from being my friend to laughing at me as I lay on the floor. I just didn't know. And that was probably the most painful thing of all.

Since then, I did my best to avoid Jack. I know, not very Gryffindor-esque, but it was easy. In the beginning my avoidance was just out of hurt and embarrassment. Over time it became natural; it didn't even feel like avoidance anymore. We were worlds apart, or at least as far as you could get at Hogwarts. He started playing Chaser for Slytherin in fourth year and became captain in sixth. My time was full of inventing spells and starting a tentative friendship with Kitty in second year. Point being, no one now would think that we were once best friends.

And now, after over four years of not speaking, Jack and I were partnered on this project for Defense. Super.

I saw Jack coming about a quarter of a mile off. He was arm in arm with some girl I vaguely recognized but didn't know by name. As they drew closer I noticed that they were a tad unsteady on their feet. I narrowed my eyes but kept my expression blank; not only were they drinking underage, but showing up to a school project intoxicated? Lovely, just lovely.

Then there was a not brief moment of awkwardness on my part. It was that situation of two people meeting, but they're too far apart to say hello. Or if they do, they'd have to shout their greetings. I also felt my eyes fumbling in place. I felt like a creep just staring at them approach, but it was also rude to not look at them. If overthinking was an event at the Olympics, I'd win gold. I'd probably win a few medals in awkwardness as well.

I ended up looking down at my watch. After class yesterday morning, we had agreed to meet at 2:45, which gave us forty-five minutes to work before Harper graded us. It was now 3:15.

After eons Jack and the girl approached the comfortable-addressing-range. I went with a nod, all the while keeping my face cool. We weren't on pleasant terms, and I wasn't about to pretend that we were.

Of course, Jack went with a "Hey," and flipped his hair all swagger-like. Bastard. The girl that was glued to him giggled.

I must have a rubbish sense of humor because I didn't see what was so funny. I decided ignoring the chick was my best course of action.

"Let's get started," I said, stepping over to the stake that was our marker. "We have about fifteen minutes before Harper comes to grade us."

"Fifteen minutes?" asked Jack.

"Yes," I said with strained patience. I had already waited a half an hour for him to show. "Harper's coming at 3:30."

"Bloody hell," Jack muttered to himself. Then to me, he said, "Lost track of time. My bad."

Yeah, your bad. But I just nodded once.

"Let's get to it then," he grunted. He first had to peel off the girl from his arm. She gave him a pouty face, blew him a kiss, and stepped back a few feet.

No, I did not succeed in preventing my eyes from rolling.

He raised one eyebrow but didn't comment. He extracted his wand from his back pocket, and said, "I can do all the spells."

"So can I," I responded.

He nodded, and without further discussion, flicked his wand. "Cave inimicum! Protego totalum! Repello inimicum! Salvio hexia!"

Realizing he was going to do all the assigned spells, I spluttered an interruption, but I was too late-

"Fianto Duri!" He finished and lowered his wand. He turned to me with a smug expression. "There. That wasn't so hard."

The girl giggled again and clapped her hands. Some people.

"We're supposed to do them together," I said, gritting my teeth.

He shrugged. "Easier this way."

"That's not the point-"

"The point," he interrupted. "Was to do the assignment to the best of our abilities. So I did it."

"Do you think me incompetent?"

"What I think is … " He glanced over at the girl, then back at me. "Isn't there some corner you need to go brood in?"

I felt my face heat up. My fingers inched toward my wand as a dozen jinxes were flashing through my brain, deciding which would be best to hit him with. My fingers were three hairs away from clutching my wand before my body slackened. Though the blood pounding in my ears thought otherwise, I knew hexing Jack into oblivion wasn't sensible.

Jack's eyes flickered to my wavering hand. Something like a scowl formed on his face. Still looking at me, he held out his hand for the girl, who metaphorically and literally ran to him. Then he said, with disgust in his voice, "That's right. Don't take assertion. Predictable."

His words were a slap in the face. I stared at the back of his head as he turned and left. What did he mean? Was he implying that I wasn't assertive? Did he want me to hex him?

Like hell I wasn't assertive. I've invented dozens of spells. If that wasn't taking initiative then I don't know what was. And, what else…?

Oh, dammit.

I kicked a nearby rock in frustration. It didn't make me feel better. I crossed my arms over my chest and fumed silently. I hated to think that he was right. Was I a coward? But then how the hell did I wind up in Gryffindor?

A small movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up and saw that Jack's spell were shimmering in place. I allowed a small smirk to grow on my face. Lacking in assertiveness I may be, but at least I didn't suck at spell work.

I glanced down at my watch. It was 3:22 - seven minutes until Harper came.

There was a certain satisfaction in tearing down Jack's spelled walls. Even greater satisfaction that they were sub-par. Harper would have been disappointed at their quality. Protection spells like these aren't supposed to be detectable to the naked eye.

Once Jack's work was torn down (and how easy it was, too), I took a deep breath. These big-time protection spells were no small matter. "Cave inimicum," I said. The stake with the colored marker disappeared from my sight. "Protego totalum," I casted. Then, "Repello inimicum." And "Salvio hexia." With a final breath, I waved my wand in a large sweeping motion, and murmured, "Fianto Duri." I took a step back to inspect my handiwork. I cast a quick "flipendo." I had to duck fast to dodge the ricocheting spell. To be doubly sure, I picked up a rock and threw it where the stake should be. Like the jinx, the rock rebounded backwards. The spells worked, and there was no hint of a shimmer.

I looked around the area to see if Harper was coming yet. Since she was nowhere in sight, I decided to add something extra. "Repello muggletum," I murmured. No muggles here, nope. Lastly, I added, "Muffliato." If this really was for a home, there was almost no point in the other spells without that last one. A potential intruder would still know you're there from hearing you even if they couldn't see you. When I had finished, I glanced down at my watch. It was 3:32.

More minutes stretched by but still no sign of Harper. Bored, I took out my wand again. "Tenentes lumino pila," I murmured.

As was earlier this week, a bright ball of light formed the size of my fist. While maintaining the first ball of light, I created four more so that five balls of light were floating around me. My original design for this spell was to have the balls explode in a shatter of bright light. I could never get the balls to explode. I checked my Latin, twice. I experimented with the wand movement, but no. Every time I attempted the exploding part it didn't work. And to top it off, my wand would grow mysteriously hot, sometimes to the point where I had to drop it.

Today, however, I wasn't attempting an explosion. For now I was just admiring the warm glow of the balls. Their soft light had a soothing effect. All my Jack-related problems fizzled away in their rays.

"Those are interesting," said a crisp voice behind me. I spun around to see Harper standing behind me, eyeing the balls of light. "What are they?"

"Um, I call them balls of light," I answered.

Harper gave me a calculating look. "Did you come up with the spell?" I nodded. Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "Impressive. A word of caution though, Miss Ward: spell invention can be dangerous business. Many a witch and wizard have died inventing spells."

I nodded mutely, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Perhaps you are already aware," she continued. "But frequently magic has a will of its own. You can use the right words, wave your wand the right way, and still the spell will turn out different than how you anticipated."

Huh. I looked over at my balls of light. Perhaps she had a point. I had the words and wand movement right, but still the spell's effect was different that what I intended.

"Just out of curiosity, what wand wood do you have?" Harper asked.

I looked back to her. "Pine."

She nodded knowingly. "Ah. I should have guessed."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Many an inventor had a pine wand." Harper gave me a warm smile. "I'm no expert on wand woods, but from what I know, pine wands enjoy in the hands of a creative person."

I returned her smile, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. It wasn't every day that I was acknowledged like that.

"Anyway, back to business. Where is Mr. Morgan?"

"He had a date," I answered in truth. There were many more truths I could have told her, but I declined. I'm not a snitch. No matter how much I dislike Jack, I wouldn't tattle. Blabbing to a professor was a low blow.

Harper bobbed her head. "No matter," she said briskly. "As long as one of you are present. And you'll get your grades Tuesday." Harper took out her wand and began poking at our - excuse me, my protective spells. While she did, I took down the balls of light. She murmured several spells under her breath that I couldn't hear. After a few minutes she put away her wand and tried to physically break through the barrier. She did not succeed.

"Well," she huffed, slightly out of breath. "Looks like a posh job to me. I didn't ask for Muffliato or the Muggle Repelling Charm though."

"I thought it went hand-in-hand with the others," I explained.

She nodded. "Too right. The Muggle Repelling Charm isn't taught until seventh year, so I left it out. But good job taking the initiative to learn it and apply it here."

I grinned. Did you hear that, Jack? I have initiative. Take that, bitch.

"Well, as I said, grades on Tuesday, but you don't have anything to worry about."

"Thank you," I said.

"Actually, I don't think you have much to worry about for exams either," she continued. "You excel at the charmwork of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The only thing I would suggest you work on is your offensive dueling spells."

I grimaced. My wand worked with ease with defensive charms and the like, but the moment things required me to get aggressive, it's like my wand would clam up. I could work on the offensive, but it's like I had to strain to use certain spells. And my offensive spells certainly couldn't muster up the same strength as for defensive spells. I nodded and said, "Yes, Professor."

She turned to leave, but after a heartbeat she turned back around. "If I may, have you thought about what you're going to do after Hogwarts?"

"I haven't decided," I answered, which really meant that I had no clue.

"Another suggestion for you: Accidental Magic Reversal Squad."

"Is that with the Ministry?"

Harper nodded. "They work with a lot of new spells, or known spells gone wrong, for that matter. You seem to have a knack for how spells work. It might be worth checking out."

I stood up a little straighter. "I will. Thank you!"

She gave me a smile, and said, "I'd best be off. Got two more groups. You have a good day now."

"You too, Professor," I responded.

* * *

The warm feeling of pleasant satisfaction and pride persisted as I made my way to the Three Broomsticks to meet Kitty. It wasn't often that a professor acknowledged me like Harper did moments ago. Oh, I did well enough, sure. But, seeing as drawing attention to myself wasn't my favorite hobby, I rarely got to shine in class. And I could shine! … just not when everyone's watching me.

A stuffy gust of air billowed in my face when I stepped into the pub. Noise and music simultaneously bombarded my eardrums. The place was packed. I had taken not three steps when someone bumped into me and nearly spilled their drink on my shoes. I let out a hiss, but the guy didn't even notice. My pleasant smile quickly morphed into a scowl. Not that he noticed.

I made my way dodging flailing arms and stomping boots to a somewhat vacant spot near the toilets. Standing on my tiptoes I scanned the room for Kitty, but no sign of her. I frowned and check my watch. It had only been around an hour since we parted. She was probably still at Madame Barf Bag's with Brian.

Great. Just peachy. I was an introvert in a stuffy, over-crowded room full of alcohol intoxicated people. Maybe there was a corner where I could hide. Or maybe I could just leave and crash the date. Yup, that sounded like the best option.

About halfway to the exit, I heard someone call my name. I shuffled to a stop and looked around at the sea of faces, trying to find a familiar one.

Ralph stood about five tables away waving his hand with a wide grin on his face. I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin, it was a friendly. My own face split into a grin, matching Ralph's. I began walking over to his table, which he shared with two of his friends.

I supposed I should have been watching where I was going. I will concede on that point. In my defense, there's people everywhere and the bloody idiot should have looked before he scooted his chair out, knocking into me, and sending me sprawling on the wooden floor.

"Ow," I moaned involuntarily, but I could barely hear my own voice. Normally when someone falls like that, there's a collective hush, but the roar of Three Broomsticks stops for no one.

"Oh, crap," I heard a voice say. Probably the perpetrator. I also heard a bunch of giggles, which sounded a lot like the giggles of the ABCD girls. What a wonderful day this is.

I tasted blood in my mouth and I felt a flash of anger at the idiot who didn't own a brain. I must have bit my tongue.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I pushed myself up to a sitting position and looked up at a pair of wide, bespectacled hazel eyes. James Potter was kneeling down, one hand gently resting on my shoulder.

I shrugged off his hand, and said, "I'm fine."

He frowned. "You're bleeding-"

"I said, I'm fine," I snapped. I stood up too fast and my vision spun. But it indirectly put some space between me and him. I took a small step forward, but James placed a firm hand back on my shoulder.

"Easy there," he said, taking a step toward me. "Why don't you take a seat?"

"I'm fine, really," I repeated. My eyes darted to his before looking away. I could feel heat spreading up my neck and to my face. It was already mortifying enough to fall down like I did. I didn't need to be mopped up by James Potter in front of his friends and wanna-bes. I glanced over at the table he had been sitting at. Correct that: tables, plural. The mob of them had pushed together three tables, and even then people were sitting on each other's laps. And like I thought, the ABCDs were there, along with all of James Potter's crew, plus a few other guys and girls in our year. To make matters even worse. Jack and the giggler were included in the mix.

James Potter gave me a skeptical look. "Alright then. I'm sorry I knocked you over."

I nodded, then abruptly shook my head. "No, I should have been watching where I was going."

He gave me an odd look. People did that sometimes. But if I didn't know better, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of a smirk on his face. He thrust his hands in his jacket pocket and gave me a half-hearted lopsided grin. He took a step backwards and said, "See ya, Ward."

"Yup," I muttered, watching him retreat back to his friends. "See you."

He turned his back first, and I ducked my head down, self-conscious that I was watching. I gave myself a mental shake, and continued along my original trajectory: Ralph.

"Are you okay?" he asked once I finally made it to his table.

"Yes," I said, putting stress on the word.

"You're bleeding-"

"I know, I think I bit my tongue when I landed."

Ralph nodded, his glasses wobbling with each nod. "You fell pretty hard. Are you sure-"

"I'm fine," I repeated for the umpteenth time. And to calm apparently everybody's concern, I grabbed my wand from my Wand Pocket. Pointing it at my mouth, I murmured, "Episkey." There was a faint itchy sensation in my mouth, but I knew it would soon dissipate.

Ralph looked relieved, but jeez, it was just a little bit of blood.

"Would you like to join us?" asked Ralph, gesturing at his friends. One was Gordon, who nodded to me in greeting. The other was Noel, who never said much.

"Uh, sure," I agreed. "But just for a bit. I'm supposed to meet Kitty here."

Ralph's cheerful face fell. "Oh."

"But I'll stay until she comes," I reassured him.

"No, well, okay but she was already here looking for you," said Ralph.

"Oh, she must have gotten done early," I speculated.

"Um…"

I gave Ralph a pointed look. "Ralph, what is it?"

"She came in like fifteen minutes before you did. She looked upset."

"Upset?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Ralph, looking uncomfortable. "She looked like she had been crying."

Oh, no. "Where is she now?"

Ralph shook his head. "She left when she couldn't find you."

"Drat," I said. "Did she say where she was going?"

"No, but I'm-"

"Sorry, Ralph, but I gotta go find her," I interrupted. "Next time, yeah?"

I didn't wait for an answer. I spun and shuffled out of the pub as quickly as I could; my best friend was in trouble.

* * *

After ten minutes of searching, I finally found Kitty sniffling by herself on a bench a few roads off the main road. There were no other Hogwarts students in sight. I walked up to her slowly. When I was about thirty feet away, she looked up, and I stopped. Her tear-filled eyes met mine for a heartbeat. Then she pulled her legs up to her chest and hid her face in her knees.

"Kitty," I said gently, and I covered the remaining distance between us.

I sat down next to her on the bench. I put my arms around her and pulled her close. I waited but I didn't say anything. Kitty's body shook with stifled sobs.

After a few minutes Kitty spoke: "Guys suck."

"That they do," I agreed, thinking of Jack.

Kitty was quiet for a few more minutes. Then she took a deep breath. On the exhale she sat up straight. I kept one arm around her, but pulled the far one to my lap. She wiped the tears from her face and said, "Gordon b-broke up with me." She turned to face me as fresh tears tumbled down her cheeks.

"Oh, Kitty, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," she sniffed.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I thought we were fine. And the date was going fine. Well, fine enough for Madame Puddifoot's."

I chuckled at her comment, but didn't interrupt.

"And then he told me he was gay!"

"What?!"

"Apparently he's gay!" Kitty exclaimed. "I've been dating a block for nearly three months, and now he tells me he's gay!"

"Um," I said, not sure of what to say. "Well, that's um, what?"

"I know!" said Kitty. "Like, could he have told me this before we started dating? So you know, I wouldn't get my heart broken?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "That's kind of leading you on."

"It's totally leading me on!" Kitty was nearly yelling now. "It's the twenty-first century, for crying out loud! Who cares of you're gay, Brian! No one! And it's not like you're the only gay student at Hogwarts! For the love of Merlin, my gosh. Go be happy with some bloke, and don't go breaking my heart trying to be straight!"

"You tell him, Kitty!"

She let out a huff, letting out her final steam.

A thought dawned on me. "Oh, no… won't everyone be talking about this now? That he's gay?"

"No," said Kitty almost dejectedly. "He asked me not to tell. Apparently he hasn't come out yet."

"Oh, so less drama for you?"

"I guess," said Kitty with a small smile. "Say, how was your meeting with Jack."

I frowned. "Guys suck."

"True that."


	4. 4 Pepper Pellets and Persistent Invites

Another year gone by. As crazy as it seemed that sixth-year had passed so quickly, it seemed even crazier how fast my six years at Hogwarts had passed. I had just one more year at Hogwarts, and that thought saddened me. Even though I loved my parents and my home, and I knew that both were waiting for me, it had been difficult to leave the castle to board the train back to London.

"Are you okay?" asked Kitty, jolting me from my thoughts. "You seem kinda quiet."

I drew my gaze away from the window to look at Kitty on the other side of our compartment. I nodded, and said, "I'm just going to miss Hogwarts. I can't believe we have one year left." I gestured to the window in the direction of the castle, though it was now out of sight.

"Yes, of course we're going to miss it! But just think - this time next year we'll be adults and graduated!"

"Speak for yourself; I turned seventeen two weeks ago!"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

I opened my mouth to give a witty comeback but was distracted by several loud bangs thundered from the corridor. Shrill screams echoed the explosion. Without thinking, I leapt up and slammed open the door.

"What the-" I broke off gagging. A gray, peppery cloud of smoke billowed in my face: pepper pellets.

"Charlotte!" squealed Kitty from inside our compartment.

Coughing, I stepped back inside to the relative safety of our compartment. I went to slam the door shut, but two girls got in my way.

"Hey!" I yelled, but it came out as more of a splutter as my lungs were dying.

"Sorry!" said one of the girls as they scurried into our compartment.

"Close it!" gasped the other in between her hacking.

If I had the time, I would have grumbled, but seeing as the smoke was sneaking in, I just shut the door. By the time I turned around, Kitty had thrown open the window. Gray smoke was quickly dissipating from our compartment. The smoke in the corridor, however, remained thick and constant.

"Oh, gosh," coughed Kitty. "How many pepper pellets was that?"

"Like a bazillion," I answered, gasping. It felt like the smoke had sucked out all the moisture from my lungs. I glanced over at the two girls, who sounded worse than us. I recognized them, but I couldn't put a name to their faces. I guessed them to be several years younger than us.

After a few minutes, the four of us calmed down and our coughing ceased. Through the window in the door, we could see that the smoke from the pepper pellets was slowly clearing, but still heavy. I presumed that none or few of the windows in the corridor were open.

"Thank you," said one of the girls after her first deep breath.

"It was nothing," I said.

"Do you know who set it off?" asked Kitty. Both girls shook their heads.

"Well, whoever did this is an idiot," I grumbled. "With that many pepper pellets, someone could have actually choked to death!"

Kitty's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh … should we go check?"

"No one else was around," said one of the girls, who had a mop of black hair that was in a messy braid. "We were standing outside of our compartment when it happened. Actually … the pellets came from inside our compartment."

" _You_ set them off?" asked Kitty. Both girls shook their heads.

The other girl frowned, and said, "We must have been pranked."

"Some prank," I muttered.

"Was anyone else in the compartment?" asked Kitty, concerned.

The black haired girl shook her head while her friend said, "No. Not at the moment."

"And then - we couldn't see, couldn't breath - and someone started shooting more pellets at us," explained the black haired girl. "So we ran the other way, towards you. Towards here."

"You're one compartment over, right?" I asked, trying to recall their faces when Kitty and I boarded.

"Yeah," said both girls at once.

Kitty and I looked at each other. Then Kitty shrugged and crossed her legs. "If you want to be a hero and go investigate, by all means, Charlotte. But I think I'll stay here."

"How'd you get sorted into Gryffindor again?" I said, frowning.

"Well," said Kitty slowly. "I sat on the stood, just like everybody else. The Sorting Hat was put on my head. A few seconds later, the Hat cried out, 'Gryffindor!' And the rest is history."

The two girls giggled, but I gave Kitty a deadpan look. Kitty grinned.

"You're both Gryffindors, right?" asked the black-haired girl.

"That's right," chirped Kitty.

"Sixth years," I added. "My name is Charlotte. And this is Priscilla."

" _Don't_ call me Priscilla!" said Kitty angrily. She turned to the two girls. "My name is Kitty. Call me Kitty. Call me anything else, and I will cut you."

"Stop it, Priscilla," I scolded. "You're scaring them."

Kitty glared at me, and it was my turn to smile at her. The girls' eyes were wide as they watched our light bickering. Kitty then dropped the glare and turned to the girls with an amiable expression. It's almost scary how fast she can swap faces. "What are your names?"

"I'm Nora," said the black haired girl. "Ravenclaw.

"And I'm Annabelle," said the other, who had sleek brown hair and eyes like a doe. "Hufflepuff. We're both third years."

"Nice to meet you," I said politely.

There was a moment's pause where no one was sure what to do or say next. If Kitty hadn't been there, I probably would have given an awkward smile, ducked my head awkwardly, and then sat in awkward silence, gazing out of the window. Thankfully, Kitty was there, and I didn't have to display my flourishing skills of social awkwardness.

"How have your classes been?" Kitty asked Nora and Annabelle.

"Good," both answered in looked over at the other and giggled. Kitty have them a warm smile.

"What's your favorite class?" I asked, making an effort to be social.

"Herbology," answered Annabelle.

"Defense," answered Nora. "But I'm sad that Harper is leaving."

I nodded in agreement. A week before exams, the professor announced that this was her final year of teaching. The school was sad to see her go. Me especially, as she had been one of the few to recognize and praize my interest in spell invention. "I'm sad, too," I sympathized. "I had her for six years, you know? She was good."

"The new professor will probably be just as good," said Annabelle.

"Maybe," I said, "but it won't be fun for the seventh years to get a new professor in our last year."

"Glad I'm not taking it anymore," chimed in Kitty.

"I just hope the new professor will be up to speed," I explained. "I don't want to waste time as they figure out where we're at."

"Yes, well." Kitty gave me a knowing look. "Good thing you work ahead so much."

Nora and Annabelle gave me a curious look. I ignored them; I didn't fancy it being common knowledge that there was some spellwork of the seventh year curriculum that I could already do.

A knock on our door made us all look up: Ralph stood outside of our compartment. He met my eyes and then opened the door.

"Hey," he greeted, standing with one hand still on the door. The smoke had finally disappeared. "I, uh, heard the explosions and came to make sure you were alright."

I smiled. "That was thoughtful of you."

"So you're alright then?"

"Yup."

"Good," he said. He held my gaze for a few moments, drumming his fingers on the glass door.

"Ralph?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah? Hey, Charlotte, do you think I could have a word?" His gaze darted to Kitty, who was pointedly not looking at him.

"Sure," I said evenly. I stood up and followed Ralph outside the compartment. We took a few steps down the corridor, out of sight from my compartment, or more likely, out of sight from Kitty. When we stopped walking, I asked, "What's up?"

Ralph ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. "So I know we talked about this before-"

"Ralph," I interrupted patiently. "Is this about visiting you?"

He nodded, and I sighed. My mom's letter containing her crisp answer had come two weeks ago. I told Ralph her response the day I received the letter. Every few days since then he had been bringing up the topic of how we could manage to get me to the Netherlands to visit him this summer.

"I already told you what my mom said," I began. "And she said no."

"I know, I know-"

"Look, I'm sorry. I really am," I said, layering my voice with sympathy. "But it's not up to me."

"You're seventeen now," Ralph pointed out. "You're a legal adult."

I gave him a weak smile. "My parents are Muggles; they don't see me as an adult just yet. And you're sure there's no way I can come a different date after the wedding?"

Ralph sniffed and pushed up his round glasses. We had discussed all of this before. Ralph's parents were divorced; their child custody agreement had Ralph's summer holiday split between each parent. This summer he'd spend the first month with his father in the Netherlands. The second month would be with his mother in Cornwall.

At my question, Ralph shook his head. "Oma and Opa Schimmel are staying the weeks following your visit." He scrunched up his nose. "And they don't like the English much."

"What about when you're in Cornwall?" I suggested.

"Mum keeps talking about taking me to France to meet her new boyfriend," he said with a sigh.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well. It's whatever." He shrugged in a nonchalant sort of way, but I knew better.

"Look," I said, trying to cheer him up. "I'll talk to mom when I get home. See if I can change her mind."

He immediately brightened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Sweet! You're the best!"

"And don't you forget it!" I teased.

Nora and Annabelle ended up staying in our compartment for a couple of hours. They were pleasant company, so I didn't mind. They were also understandably hesitant to return to their own compartment. They insisted that Kitty and I walk them back, which we did. We found the source of the pepper pellets: it seemed like someone had placed a bag of them next to their trunks when they weren't looking. We assured them that if anything happened, we'd only be one compartment away.

"It feels good to be admired and adored, doesn't it?" Kitty commented once we were back in our seats. I snorted.

The rest of the trip passed by without further event, which was saying something considering that we were on a train packed with mostly underage witches and wizards. Before we knew it, we were pulling into King's Cross.

The platform was crowded, as usual. There was an insane amount of shouting people, hooting owls, and screeching cats all going every which way. I followed Kitty as she parted through the mob of people. Unlike me, she had no qualms about elbowing people to move out of her way. I just had to follow in her wake.

She came to a sudden halt and spun around, eyes wide. "Hide me," she hissed.

"Hide you?" I looked around us, and when I saw Brian up ahead I understood. Her ex-boyfriend was chatting with whom I presumed to be his family. Unwittingly and most inconveniently, his family was standing right next to Kitty's mother. Both parties seemed oblivious to Kitty's predicament.

I looked to Kitty. "I thought you said you were over him."

"Yeah, well," she snapped. "That doesn't mean I want to be around him."

"No," I said stubbornly. I wasn't the greatest when it came to pep talks, but I sure wasn't about to let Kitty get mowed over by the jerk: "It means that _he_ doesn't get to be around _you._ Don't feel bad or awkward. He should be the one feeling awkward." I smiled. "And he will."

"Oh, no," she groaned. "Don't tell me-"

"Come on," I ordered. "We're going to see your mom. And then _he_ has to deal with it; not you."

She looked like she wanted to protest, but I started poking her until she conceded. "Alright! I'm going!"

And sure enough, when we strode up to Kitty's mom, Brian took one look at Kitty and flushed pink. As I predicted, within moments he and his family took off. Served him right.

"'Kay, Kitty," I said, semi-interrupting their mother-daughter hug. "I'd better find my family."

"Oho, Charlotte!" Kitty squealed. She let go of her mom and threw her arms around me. I grimaced. Hugs weren't my thing, but I awkwardly patted Kitty on the back. "I'm going to miss you so much!"

I smiled at her. "I'll miss you, too."

"Stay out of trouble," she warned jokingly.

"Me? Trouble?"

"Oh, right. I forgot who I was talking to," she teased. "You'll probably be indoors all summer, reading books. I'll mistake you for a vampire next September because you won't get any sun."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll write to you, too."

"Bye, love!"

"See ya," I said. With a final smile and wave, I took my trunk and marched off to find my own mother.

It didn't take long. My mother was standing in front of one of the brick pillars. She wore a light blue summer dress that reached just passed her knees. Her muted gray heels were low and elegant. Pearls adorned her neck and ears. When she spotted me, her face split into a warm smile. In contrast with her elegant, refined appearance, she broke into a near-run, which was impressive considering all the people she had to weave through to reach me.

"Charlotte!" she cried as she enveloped me in a hug.

"Hi, mum," I said, my voice muffled.

"Look at you!" She took a half-step back to eye me up and down. "You look well."

"Thanks, mum. You too."

"Have you seen your brother?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Not since we left."

"He better show up soon; Rogers is waiting."

Suddenly her expression turned sour: her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. I turned around, and, as if he just apparated, Ralph was not two feet from me.

"Oh, Ralph!" I startled. "Oh my goodness, I didn't see you there."

"Hey, Charlotte," Ralph said. Then nodding to my mom, he said with all formality, "Hello, Mrs. Ward."

"Mom, you remember Ralph?" I prompted.

Mom gave Ralph a quick smile, but her words were stiff. "Of course I remember your friend Ralph."

"Charlotte," began Ralph, turning to face me fully. "I forgot to say goodbye."

"Oh, right. I forgot too." I gave him a warm smile, which was returned. "I'll be sure to write over the summer."

"Yeah," he said. His arms twitched upward, raising them, extending them outward towards me -

"Ralph," interrupted my mom, who's smile had vanished. Ralph gave a jump, and looked up at my mom. "Have you seen Charlotte's brother, Colton?"

Ralph's face turned bright red, and he dropped his arms. "Uh, not since getting off the train."

"Oh, well," she said. "If you see him, can you direct him over to us?"

"I - yes, I will do that. If I see him, yeah," Ralph stammered. Looking up bashfully at me, he said, "Good-bye, Charlotte."

"See you, Ralph," I said.

"Yeah, I'll see you real soon!"

And with that he gave a miniscule wave, turned, and walked away. I watched him until he disappeared in the crowd.

"Charlotte!" My mom's voice was sharp. "What did he mean, 'see you real soon?' I told you, quite clearly, that you're not going to visit that boy over the summer."

I looked at her, trying to keep the glare off my face. "I know, mother. You made it perfectly clear."

"Then why-"

"I don't know!" I said, throwing my hands in the air. "I don't know why he said it."

She pursed her lips, but didn't press. We stood in silence until Cole found us. She greeted him with the same excitement as she had with me, but I could tell it was somewhat forced. For some reason, what Ralph said bothered her. She never liked Ralph; I could never figure out why.

The three of us walked together off the platform and to the curb. As usual, Rogers was waiting outside our car. He came to attention when he saw us, and opened the doors for us and placed our trunks in the back. It was only when Cole and I were sitting in the back seat that I noticed a heavy smell of smokey pepper wafting up from my brother.

And then it dawned on me. I leaned over to Cole and muttered, "Were the pepper pellets you?"

Cole shrugged. "Why? Can you prove it?"

"You're going to get in so much trouble," I told him.

"Mum and dad won't know unless _someone_ tells him," he muttered.

"I wouldn't be worried about them. I'm sure some prefects told school."

"Well … can they prove it?"

"Did anyone see you?"

"I don't think so," he whispered in answer. "But maybe it was in fact me. Or maybe it was a guy that looked like me." He gave me an oblique wink. "Identity theft is a real thing, you know."


	5. 5 Weird Dreams and Cute Cars

_Everything was a blur. Someone was screaming, but that might have been me._

 _Roaring flames._

 _A man's cruel laugh._

 _White-hot pain searing into my shoulder blade._

 _Someone whispered my name._

" _Charlotte."_

 _Or yelled?_

"Charlotte!"

I gasped and sat straight up in my bed. The heat of the flames evaporated instantly, but I could still hear the screams echoing in my ears.

"I- what? Who's screaming?" I rasped. My mouth was like sandpaper.

"What?" said Cole, leaning over my bed. "Charlotte … you must have been dreaming."

I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Oh."

"I came to tell you that grandmother's here," said Cole. I gave a small nod. "Uh, Charlotte? Can you let go of me?"

I looked down and realized that I had my hands clutched around Cole's arm with a death grip. My heart was still racing. I closed my eyes and made a conscious effort to calm down. I let go of him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "Just a weird dream."

"O-kay. Well, grandmother's here," he repeated slowly.

"I'll be down in a minute."

Cole didn't answer. I listened to his soft footsteps retreat across the carpet before I opened my eyes. The screaming had stopped, but the sense of unease lingered. I gave myself a shake. It was just a dream, no matter how vivid. And yet, I gingerly touched my right shoulder with my left hand, just to be sure, but there was nothing there.

I snorted and shook my head.

When I went downstairs, I found my grandmother, parents, and Cole all waiting for me. We were celebrating my birthday. My actual birthday was May 27, but seeing as I was at Hogwarts then, my family celebrated when summer holidays began.

"Good gracious, child," my grandmother chided the moment she saw me. "What ever did you do to your hair?"

I reached up and felt my hair, which was falling out of its French braid. Whoops. "Sorry, grandmother. I was reading and fell asleep."

She sniffed in a disapproving way, but she ended up saying, "Well, I guess it _is_ your birthday. I suppose you can have your hair the way you want it."

To appease her, so I didn't have to put up with her passive-aggressive comments all afternoon, I pulled out my hair band and ran my hands through to break apart the braid. Then I put my hair into a ponytail. It wasn't exactly classy, like my grandmother would have wanted. But there's a saying about beggars and choosers.

My birthday celebrations weren't much, but I preferred it that way. We had a pot roast dinner, followed by vanilla cake with frosting in shape of roses. And we almost got through the evening without any magical incidents.

We had just finished dessert and were drinking tea in the living room when the unmistakable hoot of an owl echoed from our chimney. There was a moment's pause before chaos broke loose. Cole jumped up and ran to the fireplace to try to get the now squawking thing; my momshrieked and ducked down unnecessarily (she's terrified of birds); and grandmother started yarping, "Charles! Call pest control!"

"Charlotte!" hissed Cole, waving me over. "Do something! It's stuck!"

"With grandmother here?" I hissed back.

"If you don't, this owl will eventually find a way to crawl through our fireplace with a letter attached to its foot _with grandmother here,_ " he retorted.

"Why didn't it go to the attic?"

"I forgot to open the window, alright?!"

"Ugh! Why didn't you open the window?!"

"I forgot! But you could have opened it too!"

"Don't blame me! You're supposed to open it, remember? And I close it at night!"

"Well, I forgot! I'm sorry, alright?!"

"Argh!"

"Look, can you just - just do something!

"Fine! Cover for me. And next time, remember to open the window!"

He grunted, and made his way over to grandmother and started ushering her out of the room. By then, she and my momwere hysterical. I think my momhad run out of the room, but grandmother was waving her cane in the air, as if she was preparing to swat the owl once it busted through the fireplace. I glanced once over my shoulder to make sure she or any of the maids weren't looking. I grabbed my wand from my Wand Pocket, and muttered, " _Detrundus._ "

There was a whoosh of air and a satisfying pop as the spell went into effect. I listened for the owl, but I heard nothing. I hadn't used that spell on an owl stuck in a chimney before. The absence of hoots meant that either the spell worked or that the owl was dead. So, I hoped it worked.

I then rushed up the stairs to Cole's room and opened one of his windows. Less than a minute later, a small barn owl swooped in and landed on his desk.

Owls can't talk, but if they could, I swear this one would have been cursing me into oblivion. It's feathers were completely, and I mean _completely_ , ruffled and disgruntled. It's dark eyes were slits, glaring up at me, and it uttered only one short hoot. Despite its lack of English, I understood it completely: "Take the letter. Now. Or I will peck out your eyes."

"Easy now," I said, reaching out towards the letter. I untied it as quickly as possible, the owl giving me a death stare as I did. As soon as I had finished, the owl gave me two swift pecks.

"Ow!"

It hooted twice. Translation: "Take that!"

"Hey now-"

But the owl took off, and didn't look back.

"It wasn't my fault!" I called out after it. It didn't answer.

I looked down at the letter in my hands; it was addressed to Cole. The handwriting was flowery, so I wondered if it belonged to a girl. Huh. Must be urgent, seeing how it was only the second day of our holidays. I chuckled, but resisted the urge to snoop, and placed the letter on Cole's desk.

When I returned downstairs, I found that the hysteria had by no means been reduced.

"An _owl_ , Charles! An owl!" cried my grandmother, banging her cane on the hardwood floor. "Do something!" My dad, bless him, was normally a calm and collected man, with everything under him doing exactly what it should be doing. My grandmother rendered him spluttering.

"The owl's gone," I announced loudly as I stepped into the kitchen.

"What?" barked my grandmother. "But how?"

I opened my mouth, but only silence came out.

"Charlotte used a magic wand to expel the owl from the chimney," jutted in Cole before any of us could find a reasonable explanation. There was a pregnant pause as my parents held their breath; my eyes shot daggers at Cole, but he was just sitting there with a stupid grin on his face.

My grandmother put on her stern face. "Juliana," she huffed to my mother. "What in the world are you letting Colton watch on the television? Magic wands? My goodness. Next thing you know, he'll be off to Camelot to join King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table!"

"Yes, well…" my momtrailed off meekly. Like with my dad, grandmother had a way of just steamrolling over any conversation.

"No, it wasn't from the T.V.," piped Cole. He had a full on smirk now. "It was from school!"

I could have strangled him.

My grandmother's frown deepened. "I thought St. Rowan's Academy was respectable? They allow such conversations about magic wands? Humph. Juliana, I'd put in a word with the headmaster, if I were you."

"Yes, well." My momcleared her throat. "Would you like some more tea?"

"Is there anymore of the jasmine?"

"Yes. I'll put on the kettle." Mom stood up and walked over to the stove. Behind my grandmother's back, she gave Cole a look that could only mean one thing: another peep about magic, and we'll ground you. Literally. In the past they took his broomstick away as a consequence for his troublemaking.

But it dawned on me what Cole actually did: he told our grandmother the truth, but since it sounded so ridiculous, she didn't believe it. And the topic of magic distracted her from considering how the owl problem was solved. Huh. I guess it turned out my brother did have a brain.

"So, Charlotte," began my grandmother. "You're seventeen. Almost an adult."

"Yes," I said politely.

"Almost an adult comes with some responsibilities, you know," she continued with a knowing look. I nodded, but I had no idea what it was that I was supposed to be knowing. She put her knobbly fingers on the edge of the table and leaned towards me, her eyes sparkling. "But why shouldn't there be some fun with responsibility?"

I cocked my head at her. I am sure a blank and confused expression was on my face.

She gave me a smile - no, a smirk. My grandmother _smirked_ as she handed me an envelope from her beaded purse.

I reached out and took the envelope from her. When my fingers grasped it, I could feel something small and hard inside, something with a distinct shape. I froze. Then my eyes went stretched wide to their full capacity.

"No … you didn't …"

Grandmother gave me a knowing smile and leaned back in her chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my parents exchange a satisfied look.

"What is it?" asked Cole, looking back and forth between grandmother and I.

I finally set down my arm, and said, "Grandmother, is this what I think it is?"

She didn't say anything, but continued to smile.

I stood up and rushed over, flinging my arms around her. "Oh, grandma! Thank you!"

"Easy there," she creaked. "Old bones!"

"What is it?!" Cole repeated, but now impatiently.

"Oh! I don't know what to say!"

"Say what it is!" said Cole.

"Say that you'll ace your driver's education classes, and that you won't ever, ever, ever get into a car accident," said my dad.

Cole's mouth dropped open. "You got her a car?!"

I ripped open the envelope. Inside was a brass colored key, along with a fob. I took it out and waved it in the air, as if Cole needed proof.

"The car is in the garage in one of the open stalls that isn't open anymore," my grandmother added.

I beamed at her, gave her a peck on the cheek, and raced out to our garages. Cole was quick on my heels. I'm not very athletic, but I sure did sprint all the way there.

The garage door was already open. Inside, gleaming with freshly applied wax, was an aqua-colored Mini Cooper Convertible. My mouth dropped open.

It was adorable.

For a solid few minutes, I forgot I was a witch. I forgot about magic. For those few minutes, I was just a normal Muggle girl who got a car for her birthday. Yeah … I gushed. I literally squealed and ran up to the car and gave it an awkward hug. Then I ran my hands over the hood, my fingers tracing the black decal down the center.

"It's kinda girly," said Cole.

I didn't spare him a glance. "In case you didn't notice, I am a girl."

"Yeah … but I didn't think you were into things like this."

"It's a freakin' car, Cole!" I turned to him and made a large gesture with my arms to encompass the breadth of the car.

He gave me a flat look. "You have a wand. You passed your apparation test; you can apparate anywhere you want."

I frowned. "It's still cute."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I hope I don't get a car when I'm your age. I wouldn't use it. Like ever."

"It might come in useful," I said, not wanting Cole to spoil my happiness.

"What can this do that your wand can't?"

"Well…" I said, searching for an argument. "What if I lose my wand?"

"Broomstick," he countered. "Duh."

I pursed my lips.

"Ah, right. I forgot," he said with sarcasm. "You're afraid of heights. Guess you're right. You'll just have to drive your super girly car if you ever are in the extremely unlikely situation of losing your wand."

"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

He snorted. "Whatever you say, _mum_."

I scowled as he turned to walk back to the house. Way to piss on my parade.

Over the next few days, my family settled into our summer holiday normalcy. After a close encounter with one of the maids, my parents quickly established the rule of no magic except for when it was just family in the house. This was frustrating, but I didn't complain. Unfortunately for me, there was almost always a maid, chef, butler, or gardner in the house or on the grounds.

It dawned on me that this was how Cole felt last summer when our parents gave him a broomstick. Two Christmas' ago they gave him a Rocketstar, and since then, they had no end of trouble. Cole being Cole, he wanted to be on his broom as much as possible. With him, as now with me, they made the rule of no broomstick riding when there are Muggles in the house or on the grounds. They pretty much limited Cole to flying at night.

Of course, Cole broke that rule as much as he could get away with it. But He was careful about it though. He took a care of where and when he chose to go behind our parents' back.

My family owned two homes, one in Richmond and one in Surrey. Our home in Richmond was closer to Lloyd's Bank, where my dad worked. All of us would stay there if we had business or fun planned in London, but mostly just my dad stayed there during the week. On the weekends he would come to our home in Surrey.

I liked our Surrey manor the best. In addition to owning the land for about a mile around, our personal grounds are massive, with a six-foot stone fence surrounding them; five football fields could fit in the back alone. Right behind the house there is a brick patio with several fountains and wooden benches. There is a perennial garden that gradually morphs into a shrubbed maze that is impossible to get lost in. Beyond the flowery is our woods. The trees closest to the house are of birch, which are maintained to perfection. Going back further, the birch stretches into white pine. After the pine, my parents stopped caring what kind of trees were there. They also stop caring what happens beyond the pine. Meaning, it is beyond the pine where Cole takes his broomstick to fly.

He's not stupid, though. He flies low, below the tree line. He also goes out to fly when our parents aren't home. As I said before, my dad works in London. Momonly works in the afternoons at the local library. So it's in the afternoon Cole goes out to the woods. He makes sure he's back before anyone gets home.

After my parents set the no-magic rule, I quickly took a leaf out of Cole's book and broke the rules when no one was looking. There was no way I was going to go a whole summer with limited use of magic.

Unbeknownst to Cole, I set up a Disillusionment Charm around the woods beyond the pine. I had never done that spell on such a stretch of terrain. It was a tricky spell, and it took a few days to get right, but I got it in the end. Mostly, anyway. When someone moved under the spell's sphere of influence, there was a slight disturbance in the visual. Just a small shimmer, a ripple. It wasn't perfect, which irked me, but still - not bad for a witch with one year to go at Hogwarts. I placed an Anti-Muggle spell on the area for good measure.

I started taking my driver's education class the first week of the holidays. They took place in the mornings. Normally, it wouldn't have mattered, except that I was struggling to find an opportune moment to speak with my momabout me visiting Ralph. I had class in the mornings, and she worked in the afternoons. That left the evenings, but …. Ugh.

It wasn't until the Tuesday before the Saturday wedding that I got my chance to talk to mom.

She and I were in London at the McDevee's Tailor to get fitted for dresses. We weren't in the wedding party, but a wedding with a Ward in it called for new dresses. And besides, I had grown since last summer, almost exclusively in the chest region.

The dress I was getting was of periwinkle ivory covered with a translucent floral lace that gave the dress a dappled effect. It was strapless, and that caused my momto antagonize over it if that was appropriate for a seventeen-year-old to wear. In the end, we decided that I would wear a light, complimentary shawl to cover my oh-so-sexy shoulders.

It was as we waited for the attendants to pack up the dress I brought up the topic of Ralph.

"So, mother," I began.

"Hmm?" she said absentmindedly. She was flipping through a gossip magazine.

"You know how Ralph invited me to stay with him?"

She stiffened, pursed her lips, but didn't look up from her magazine. "Yes, Charlotte," she said, her voice full of warning. "I remember how the boy asked you to stay with him."

I frowned. "Well, I was wondering if there was any chance-"

"Charlotte," she cut me off. "I-am-not-having-this-conversation-here-with-you."

"But-"

"Charlotte!" she hissed. "What are we doing here, right now? I just bought you a dress for the wedding. It cost over 1000 pounds! Your heels were another few hundred. Not to mention that I already booked your hair stylist and make-up artist."

"I just-"

"No!" She said firmly. "I've already told you no several times. How many times do I have to tell you? No, you are not going to that boy's house."

"'That boy?' What's that supposed to mean?"

She sniffed in sharply. "I don't like him."

"Clearly."

"Don't you take that tone with me."

"Well why don't you like him then?"

"Oh, come on, Charlotte," she huffed. "Do you really not see the way he looks at you?"

"I- what?"

My momlowered her voice. "He looks at you like… like, a starving dog looking at a piece of meat."

"He does not!" I said, indignant.

My momshook her head. "Haven't you wondered why Kitty dislikes him, too?"

Yes, was the honest answer, but the word was stuck in my throat.

The anger slowly faded from her face and was replaced by something looking like concern. "Look Charlotte. You're my daughter, and I love you. You'll understand when you become a momsomeday. I will do anything to protect you. And to protect you from guys like him."

I didn't know what to say to that. She was wrong about Ralph. He was my friend, and I knew he didn't look at me like… that.

"You deserve someone better," she said softly.

I shook my head but didn't argue with her. I dropped the subject, and resigned myself to go to the wedding.

Saturday came soon enough. I was woken at the crack of dawn to get ready. I grumbled through the first hour. I wasn't even in the wedding party; why did I have to aim to look just as good? But when my mom was on a beauty role, I have learned just to go along with it.

By eleven we were ready. I wore my periwinkle ivory dress with a silver shawl and heels. My dad had given me some small dangle diamond earrings for my birthday, which I wore as my only bedazzled feature. My long brown hair had been washed, cut, and styled. The hairdo was … well, I wasn't sure how to describe it. Most of it was up in a French twist kind of thing? But it had also been curled. I don't know; it was pretty, and that's the important thing.

The wedding was at 2:30 at a Cathedral in downtown London. Rogers dropped us off. It was a short walk, but I quickly found out that walking on cobblestone in heels was stupid. Dad offered me his arm.

"You look beautiful," he murmured to me. I blushed.

The wedding was like most weddings: my cousin and her fiance were immaculate; there was a stodgy old priest who held the ceremony; there were flowers and doves; and my aunt burst into tears at the very end. We all rose when the bride and groom walked out of the cathedral.

"When can we eat?" complained Cole from next to me.

"Shh!"

"What? I'm hungry."

"Join the club. At least mom let you eat lunch. After my make-up went on, she wouldn't let me eat."

"Not my fault my face doesn't need make-up," he bragged.

"That's because no amount of make-up would help your face, dolt," I shot back.

"Would-you-two-please-be-quiet?" my mom muttered through a smile.

The reception wasn't that far away, distance wise, but with London traffic it took nearly an hour to get there. The building was a grand Victorian manor that had been renovated to hold events such as a reception. It's exterior was gorgeous, and the lawns were magnificent. I could already tell I was going to enjoy walking in the gardens.

When we started walking in, my mom pulled me aside. "Go ahead. We'll catch up," she told the guys.

"What is it?" I asked.

She took a deep breath and looked at me squarely. "Charlotte, I don't want you to panic."

"Panic?" I said, the mere mention of the word already making my heart speed up.

"Just-." She grimaced and gripped my arm tight. She nodded, gesturing for me to walk with her.

"Mom… what is it?"

She looked back at the parking lot, as if she was looking for someone. Her eyes widened slightly with what I knew was recognition. She gave a small nod. I began to turn to see who it was, but she jerked me back to look at her.

"Charlotte. Honey, your wedding invitation came with a plus-one."

"A plus-one?" I frowned. "But I didn't invite anyone."

"I know. I sent it in."

"You… what?"

"I invited someone to be your plus-one," she explained. "I knew you wouldn't invite him, so I did. I'm sorry. I know you'll be angry with me, but it's for your own good."

I stared at her. Then I slowly turned around.

Twenty feet away, standing on the stone path, was a tall young man. He wore a black tux with a matching black skinny tie. His wispy dark brown hair swayed in the gentle breeze. When our eyes met, a subtle smirk appeared on his face.

Jack Morgan's face.

My mom had invited Jack Morgan to be my plus-one.


End file.
